


Relieving some stress

by Vault_Emblem



Category: Darkest Dungeon (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dismas gets tied up with his own scarf, Light Bondage, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:00:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25017397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vault_Emblem/pseuds/Vault_Emblem
Summary: After an arduous mission, Dismas and Reynauld retire for the night to alleviate some stress.
Relationships: Crusader/Highwayman (Darkest Dungeon), Dismas/Reynauld (Darkest Dungeon)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 55





	Relieving some stress

**Author's Note:**

> Man I'm hooked with this same, so ofc I had to write something about it.
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr [@bi-naesala](https://bi-naesala.tumblr.com) and on twitter [@vault_emblem](https://twitter.com/vault_emblem)

This isn’t anything new. By now, they know the practice by heart: after another successful mission in this Light-forsaken place, Reynauld and Dismas would leave the barracks after giving the Heir their report so that they can go relax someplace else. And where would this place be? Well, there are always many free rooms in the tavern, rooms that can be easily paid for.

They always choose the closest to the brothel, so that their noises can at least be covered by way louder ones. Besides, who would come looking for them there?

Not that they need to keep quiet, in the end: theirs is an open secret after all, but it’s also true that they don’t want to exactly go flaunt it around town like the couple of lovebirds they are. Certain things should be left to people who have at least half their age.

Maybe they should get the memo too, because they have just gotten to the second floor that they’re kissing already, in the hallway in plain view. And there it goes the idea to at least _try_ to be subtle.

It’s also true that, if you lived like they do, with the knowledge that every day could be their last, you probably would attach yourself to every form of consolation you can find, which is exactly what they’re doing. And if maybe there’s also the fact that Dismas has been eyeing Reynauld’s arms since he helped him carry the big stash of gold they’ve found in the ruins, and if maybe there’s also the fact that Reynauld’s sleep during camp has been “plagued” by unsavoury pictures of Dismas… well, that’s not for us to know.

Still, Dismas would want to do something more rather than just kiss out in the open, but even as he drags Reynauld away it doesn’t last long: before he can even open the door of the room they’ve rented, Reynauld’s over him again, actually pinning him against the wooden surface, holding his wrist at the same level of his head. Despite this, his hold is quite gentle; there will be no bruising tonight - they had that already down in the ruins.

It’s all great and all, don’t take Dismas wrong. He’s loving it, but he also wants way more than this, and he’s tired of waiting. He manages to break away from Reynauld’s hold with one hand, sliding it behind him to open the handle and…

He hadn’t calculated that Reynauld still has him pinned to the door, which means that, as soon as it slides open, they both fall on the ground like the old fools that they are.

There’s a moment of silence, but it doesn’t last long as laughter erupts from both of them. At least they’re taking it well.

Then Reynauld’s mouth is on Dismas’ again, and he doesn’t know anymore if they’re laughing or their kissing.

“The door!” he manages to say between one peck and another, and that finally catches Reynauld’s attention.

“Right…” he says, getting up - even if he doesn’t really want to - to close it behind them. In the meantime, Dismas takes advantage of this moment to get up and get rid of his coat.

Once Reynauld actually closes the door, his attention is immediately on Dismas again, as he covers the distance between them with quick steps so that he can close his arms against the other and drag him for another heated kiss, as if there hadn’t been any interruption from what they were doing before.

This time, Dismas returns the gesture eagerly, wrapping his arms around Reynauld’s shoulders and pressing their hips together, while a hiss escapes them both when their respective crotches come in contact. It’s a good thing that Reynauld has already gotten rid of his armor in the barracks; it makes things so much easier now.

They begin to hump each other like a couple of horny teenagers, at least before Reynauld takes Dismas by his waist, raising him from the ground while the other - who by now knows the drill - locks his legs around him, and begins to walk towards the bed, letting them both fall on it once they’re close enough.

Clothes begin to get discarded, one layer after another, until they’re both naked.

“Reynauld,” Dismas calls him, hoping for something, anything. They’ve waited so long.

“Actually…” the other mutters, a mischievous expression on his face that tells Dismas that he’s gotten a fun idea, which is fine, more than fine even. If only he’d share it, that is.

He has to rummage through their clothes on the ground before finding what he was looking for, and when he does, he raises it to Dismas, a triumphant expression in his eyes. It’s Dismas scarf.

“Your crude jokes gave me an idea,” is what he says, referring to how, during camp, after he’s been asked to stop tinkering with his flintlock because of the noise, Dismas just said that if they really wanted him to stop moving they would’ve had to tie him up ‘cause it wasn’t going to happen, “Would you like to…”

He barely needs to glance at Dismas’ face to understand what he thinks about it; for a moment he loses himself in his eyes, and he swears that for someone with as little shame as Dismas, the man is blushing. Besides, there can’t be any other interpretations on whether he wants this or not when Reynauld can feel his hardness pressed against his thigh.

“Hells, _yes_.”

It takes more than Reynauld thought to actually secure Dismas to the bedpost, mostly because he couldn’t stop squirming; he always gets like this when he’s all hot and bothered - he has a very sensitive body, something that Reynauld intends to fully take advantage of.

Once it is done, he takes a moment to admire his handwork. The scarf isn’t too tight, just in case they need to get running for an emergency, but it’s enough to pin Dismas’s wrist in a way that doesn’t allow him to move. He’d probably be able to set himself free if he wanted too, but he seems to like it too much to do so. Speaking of him, they haven’t even started and he looks out of it already. It’s very different from the smug Dismas Reynauld gets to see during these moments, but he likes it nonetheless.

“You’re beautiful,” he mutters before he can stop himself, making Dismas scoff. He’s never been good with compliments.

“I mean it,” Reynauld continues, mouthing at Dismas neck, sending a shiver through the other’s spine, “You should see yourself in this moment,” and he alternates a word to a kiss, leaving a trail on Dismas’ shoulder, then going down towards his chest, that he nuzzles with affection.

“Just get on with it,” Dismas groans, trying to push his hips up in order to get some friction, but Reynauld stops with, making him stay still.

“I will,” and there’s a wicked smile on his face, “In due time.”

And thus Reynauld’s slow torture begins, as he licks and bites every inch of Dismas’ body. He can’t help but to smile at the way he squirms under him every time he touches a sensitive spot, but between his own scarf and Reynauld’s strong hands that keep him down, there’s nothing he can do to subtract himself to the contact, not that he actually wants to do that. He may be suffering, but it’s the kind of pleasurable suffering that he enjoys so much - what’s life without a bit of pain after all?

By the time Reynauld gently closes his teeth around his nipple, he’s already begging him for more, but Reynauld doesn’t listen to him, and he keeps sucking at the pink nub as if he hadn’t heard him, though Dismas knows for a fact that he has, he’s just being an asshole about it.

The more Reynauld keeps at it, the less coherent Dismas gets. His words are slurred so much that they are barely understandable, not that it makes a difference, since Reynauld is still set on ignoring his pleas.

When he begins to travel downwards, Dismas is sure he’s finally going to give it to him, but then right as he’s about to get to his cock, he changes trajectory, beginning to lap at his inner trembling thighs.

Dismas isn’t sure how long he can take this before he explodes right there, but Reynauld doesn’t seem concerned. He’s actually making things worse, sending languid glances his way as he keeps marking him, and if that isn’t a pretty sight - Reynauld between his legs looking at him like _that_ \- then Dismas doesn’t know what it is.

“Reynauld…” he groans, and at least this time the knight doesn’t pretend he hasn’t heard him: after smiling at him, in fact, he _finally_ dives his head down, though not to do what Dismas thought he was going to do. Still, when he feels his wet tongue tracing his perineum, Dismas can’t hold a relieved sigh. He almost mutters a “thank you” but thankfully he manages to stop himself before that could happen - he may not have a dignity, but he still hasn’t sunken that low.

It’s still better than nothing - more than better - and at least Reynauld is merciful enough to allow him to move this time, as he rubs his hips against him in search of more friction. It’s not for altruistic purpose, however, that Reynauld is letting him do so: he wants to see how desperate he’s become, to the point that he’ll get anything he lets him have, like he’s doing now. He drinks in the weak moans that are leaving his mouth, and the way he hisses when Reynauld presses with more insistence, circling his tongue around his already twitchy entrance.

It’s all over too soon, after Reynauld gives that ring of muscle a little suck, before making his way up Dismas’ body. He notices that his cock has begun to leak on his stomach, and he goes to clean it with his mouth, making Dismas shiver and pant.

_“Reynauld!”_

Ah, what to do with him?

Reynauld can’t help a fond smile to form on his lips, looking at the man under him. Maybe he has teased him enough.

He quickly goes to grab the oil they use in these situations. His plan was to make Dismas ache for it, but he hadn’t taken in consideration that he’d be aching the same way as him; he wouldn’t say that it completely backfired, but it’s definitely an incentive to begin to make things move faster.

After coating his fingers, he circles Dismas’ pucker, his eyes on the other, not moving even for a moment; he loves to see his reaction and he doesn’t want to miss a beat. He notices a trickle of drool going down to his chin, and he licks it, going in for a kiss then.

He presses in at that same exact moment, making Dismas groan into the kiss. It’s just a mere finger at first, as Reynauld lazily presses against Dismas’ most sensitive spots. The way he’s already rutting against him is cute; he looks so close already, and Reynauld doesn’t doubt not even for a moment that he’d be able to come just with this.

When he presses a second finger, Dismas’ breath gets even more ragged. Before he has the chance to come, however, Reynauld makes sure to grab the base of his cock, holding it tight so that he can’t. Of course, Dismas doesn’t like that one bit.

“You piece of shit! You--” he begins, but Reynauld cuts him off before everyone in their vicinity could hear the expletives.

“Patience is virtue, we’re almost there.”

“It’s easy for you to say, you’re not--” Dismas continues, but it’s in that exact moment that Reynauld crooks his fingers, sending jolts of pleasure all over his arching body, making him forget whatever thing he was going to say and Reynauld keeps applying pressure on that spot. Dismas could almost cry, but he does his best to hold the tears in - at this point, he doesn’t want to give tinhead any satisfaction.

The more Reynauld continues, however, the less Dismas feels inclined on keeping this resolution.

“Rey… c’mon. C’mon, I’m ready… _Please_.”

And there he goes the last of his dignity.

Reynauld _smirks_ , he really does the bastard, and he leans closer, so close that Dismas could easily take a bit out of his nose in retaliation, but he thinks better of it; if he does anything that will make Reynauld stop, he’ll die.

“What was that?”

Maybe Dismas will have to bite him after all. He greets his teeth, trying to focus on something, anything other than Reynauld’s fingers moving inside him, but he’s too far gone for that.

“ _Please_ ,” he mutters then, his voice merely a whisper, “Please, Reynauld. I can’t…”

That finally does it for Reynauld.

Dismas would’ve wined at the sudden loss of sensation if Reynauld hadn’t shushed him. It takes him just a moment to pour some oil on his cock - and he has to stop for a moment, or else he would’ve come on the spot with all this pent-up frustration - but after he’s done he’s pressing immediately against Dismas, who doesn’t hide a pleased groan as he begins to get filled up again.

Reynauld isn’t completely inside yet and he’s already moving against him, not even waiting for him to bottom out. This time, Reynauld has outdone himself.

He still keeps him down by the hips, earning a frustrated huff that he ignores, knowing that soon Dismas won’t be minding all this waiting anymore. He massages slow circles with his thumbs to soothe him, as he slowly pushes further, and Dismas seems to calm down a bit.

His eyes are shut closed, and even as he’s so overtaken by desire, Reynauld can’t help it but to find it especially cute.

“You feel so good, Dismas,” he mutters, laying a chaste kiss on the other’s lips, “So good.”

“You too, you too…” Dismas replies, trying to reach Reynauld for another kiss, and this time the crusader decides to go along with it, letting him kiss his lips as much as he wants to.

Once he’s fully inside, he takes a moment to gather his bearings, as this is too much even for him; Dismas is so warm and wet around him, truly a divine feeling - and to think that once he would’ve been so disappointed in himself for drawing such a sacrilegious comparison. Dismas, however, doesn’t seem to appreciate this pause, if the kick on his lower back tells him something.

“Just move, you old fool.”

Reynauld chuckles, wiggling his hips just a bit, but enough to drive Dismas mad. The reaction doesn’t fail to come as Dismas moans, his body pliant again against the sheets.

It’s then that Reynauld straightens his back, taking Dismas’ legs and hoisting them on his shoulders, ready to give him what he needs.

“As you wish.”

If anyone would know what it’s like to be fucked with the strength of a thousand horses, it’s Dismas. Reynauld doesn’t pull any punches, pounding inside of him without a care in the world, exactly how he likes it.

With all the build-up tension from before, it takes Dismas shorter than it usually would to come. He feels Reynauld’s eyes on him, watching as he soils his stomach in come without batting an eye - another weird fascination of him, even though Dismas doesn’t actually find it that weird, but he loves messing with him so he still calls him an old pervert for it.

Reynauld doesn’t stop, running after his own orgasm, and there’s nothing that Dismas can do, not with how he’s been tied up. His body shakes, squirms and writhes, but Reynauld doesn’t slow down. He hears the sound of skin slapping against skin, and he wonders if it can be heard outside. What would their companions think if they saw them like that?

There’s a huff coming from Reynauld - he never liked it when his partner is distracted - and suddenly Dismas finds himself with Reynauld, with his legs still on his shoulders, pressing against him, with the result of folding Dismas in two; with this new angle he can feel him sink even deeper in his oversensitive insides.

It’s so painful but also great at the same time, and Dismas can feel his cock taking an interest to this pounding again, getting to full hardness as Reynauld keeps going, relentless.

“R-Reynauld…”

“Ssssh. I got you,” Reynauld murmurs, caressing Dismas’ hair to soothe him with one hand, the same hand that he later goes to wrap around Dismas’ cock, stroking it in an effort to keep the same rhythm as his thrusts, “I got you.”

This time, they’re both close. It’s almost romantic - really - the way they come at the same time, muttering each other’s names between hastily shared kisses, but Dismas isn’t a particularly romantic type; that’s not entirely true, actually, but with a life like his it’s hard to give space to anything resembling romanticism. This is the closest he’s ever gotten to it.

On the other hand, Reynauld has had more experience with this, even if for him too there hasn’t been place for love for a long time. Still, he’s been more willing than the other to welcome it back in his life, as it’s easily seen by the gentle way he cradles Dismas in his arms after their release, not before untying him of course, and the sweet nothings he whispers in his ear, about how good he’s been and how much he loves him.

Dismas could push him away if he really wanted - he had done so before - but... after so much time spent in each other’s company…

He lets Reynauld engulf him in his arms, at least while he catches his breath. He doesn’t mind these moments as much as he used to, and if that means that he’s gotten softer… Eh, so be it.

He closes his arms around Reynauld’s body, letting the other gently roll them on the bed so that Dismas is over him, and he lets a content sigh and he rests his head over Reynauld’s chest. There’s silence - finally - but that changes soon thanks to Reynauld.

“So… did you like it?”

The first time it happened, Dismas couldn’t believe it: did he really have his head so far up his ass that he was going to ask something so dumb just to gloat? But, as it turns out, Reynauld is genuine when he asks - he likes feedback, and knowing that he’s done a good job, especially when he’s the one bringing new ideas to the bed.

Instead of getting annoyed, then, Dismas nods, going to pet Reynauld’s hair, which are always weirdly soft and he still hasn’t found out how he manages - is it the helmet? It must be.

“Yes, you had a good idea.”

“Good.” There’s a smirk on Reynauld’s lips, a smirk that signifies that they’re definitely going to do this again, which yes, is extremely good. What better way to vent some stress, after all?

Still, there’s something more Dismas wants to do, now that he’s rested a bit…

A devious smirk forms on his lips at the way Reynauld begins so stutter when he properly saddles his hips and begins to grind his ass against Reynauld’s cock. He can feel immediately that he’s picked his interest.

Still, Reynauld sends him an incredulous look which isn’t that incredulous actually; more than anything, he’s surprised it took him so little time to get back to business.

“Again?” he asks, but it’s not like Dismas can’t feel him growing hard already against his back, not at all. He leans closer until they’re mere inches apart. As much as he enjoys seeing Reynauld when he gives it his all, he can’t say that having him under him isn’t a pretty sight as well.

“You really thought that after all you put me through you were going to get away just with that?” he says in that sultry voice of his, knowing what it does to Reynauld, who in fact whines, hands that grab Dismas’ hips in an attempt to make him grind against him again and Dismas, in all his mercy, indulges him, earning a pleased moan in return.

They kiss, letting their bodies do the talking for a while. The night is still young after all, so why shouldn’t they take advantage of it?

And if they get back to the barracks at dawn, both looking ragged and tired, and go straight to sleep until the afternoon… well, that’s nobody’s business but theirs.


End file.
